Sunday, August 12, 2023
The morning begins शांत and clear in Wengen. The air is fresh, almost transparent, and a soft light rests over the rooftops, promising an extraordinary day. We set out early—my sister-in-law Basia, her daughter Anja, my wife Hania, our son Simon, and I. The inexpensive ticket we managed to secure feels like a small triumph as we walk toward the station.
Even before we reach it, my gaze lifts almost on its own—up toward the mountains. And there she stands: the Jungfrau. Broad, calm, almost majestically distant. From this perspective, her immense north face appears like a wall of light cast in stone and ice. To the right rises the Silberhorn—more sharply defined, almost elegant, its ridge cutting into the sky like the stroke of a blade.
Between and beneath them lies the dark Schwarzmönch-Massiv. Its wide, shadowed flanks feel heavy and still, as if the mountain itself were draped in a cloak of rock. Further west, the Rottal Glacier flows downward, while the Äbeni Flue, with its broad white firn dome, appears almost as a counterpoint—soft, rounded, nearly serene.
Even here, it becomes clear to me: these mountains are not just peaks. They are characters.
The train departs at 7:46 and glides through the cool Wengwald forest. Light flickers between the trees, and then suddenly the landscape opens up—wide alpine meadows, lush green, and above them the snow-covered slopes of the mountains. At Allmend, the world seems to grow larger.
At times, the route follows the famous Lauberhorn downhill course. I recognize the Hundschopf and the starting house—places that speak of speed and risk in winter, now lying quiet in the summer sun.
With every meter of elevation, the presence of the Eiger grows. We cannot yet see its north face, but we feel it—that immense, almost intimidating wall rising just beyond our view. At the Kleine Scheidegg, we finally stand in the middle of this stone amphitheater. Here, the mountains are no longer distant—they stand directly before us, vast, serious, overwhelming.
Gallery I – First Impressions: Wengen and the High Alps in Morning Light
We change trains and continue toward the Jungfraujoch. At the Eigergletscher, the world shifts again. Rock becomes ice, colors are reduced: white, gray, blue. Shortly afterward, the tunnel swallows us—seven kilometers through the interior of the mountains.
A brief stop at Eismeer. I step up to the panoramic window. Before me lies a fractured sea of ice—silent, inhospitable, yet overwhelmingly beautiful.
Gallery II – Ascent Through Meadows, Rock, and Ice
Arriving at the Jungfraujoch, a world of light and vastness unfolds. The Aletschgletscher stretches through the Alps like an endless river.
To the left rises the Mönch with its south ridge—sharp, almost austere. Behind it, the Trugberg and the Fiescherhorn peaks form a dark wall in the ice. To the right, the Jungfrau frames the panorama, its broad flanks covered in snow, almost glowing.
Further below lies the Grünegg—a striking contrast. A rocky ridge with patches of green in the middle of this white world. Behind it rises the Grünhorn group, with the Gross Grünhorn as its dominant and beautifully shaped summit.
Gallery III – The High Alps at Jungfraujoch: Glaciers and Four-Thousanders
On the northern side of the platform, the perspective shifts again. Far below lies the Kleine Scheidegg, now tiny. Beyond it stretches the green ridge of the Männlichen, separating the valleys. In the distance, I can even make out Interlaken, nestled between lakes and mountains.
Gallery IV – Looking North: Valleys, Light, and Depth
We venture out into the snow toward the Mönchsjoch Hut. Every step takes effort. The snow gives way beneath our feet, even though the path is prepared. I find myself wondering how mountaineers manage to push through deep snow in such conditions.
Back at the fun park, Simon and Anja laugh as they rush down into the depths. Soon Hania joins them. Basia and I remain seated, watching—and simply enjoying this moment between sky and ice.
Later, we stand on the plateau below the Jungfrau. The view is direct, unobstructed. Here, the mountain is not just large—it feels alive.
Gallery V – Plateau and Experiences in the Snow
The Ice Palace forms the quiet conclusion of our stay. In the smooth corridors, the light reflects off the walls, and the delicate sculptures immediately remind me of the salt mine of Wieliczka. Here too, deep inside the earth, humans have created something magical.
Gallery VI – The Ice Palace: Art and Stillness Inside the Mountain
The return journey begins with a decision: Basia and I want to walk. The path down from Kleine Scheidegg is calm, almost meditative. Above us the mountains, below us the valley.
The view opens onto the Lauterbrunnental, and opposite lies Mürren, as if placed on a stage high above the cliffs.
Cows cross our path, calm and unbothered. Basia prefers to stay behind me—I take the lead. The path stretches on, and fatigue sets in. When we reach the signposts, the decision comes quickly: we take the train from Wengernalp.
Gallery VII – Descent: Between Meadows, Cows, and Grand Views
The last minutes back to Wengen pass quickly. When we step off the train, the day is still filled with light.
And as I look up once more at the peaks, I know: This was not just an excursion.
It was a day that stays.